The thing is--I totaly forgot how awesome loafing is when you have something else to do. It's like underaged drinking, except without the arrest possibility, alcohol poisoning, or peeling random males off one before stumbling to bed. But there's the furtive joy of doing something you know you shouldn't, vague guilt because you *know* what you should be doing, and then the sheer ecstacy of blowing it off.
It's kind of beautiful, really.
Things Accomplished
1.) Downloaded Visio for class. Eh.
2.) Downloaded C++ compiler. Very awesome. Have no idea how to use it, but I poked it for a while and did something and colors appeared, so I got scared and shut it down really fast.
3.) Tried to pick a focus for my CS electives, which may seem kind of early except for the fact that a.) I have *nothing but this major left* other than the base classes I'm taking now and b.) I keep steering toward things I know will bore me to tears in the long run.
Like--ooh, introduction to AI! Sounds awesome! And dramatic! Robots! (in junior high, which is next year, they start intro to robots and I swear, anyone tells Child I have this option, I will never hear the end of it). And yes, being a sci-fi fan, it's like catnip. But one, I hate theoretical work because it's a lot less active for the most part and b.) seriously. What the hell am I going to do with it? Granted, maybe I am in fact an undiscovered genius who will suddenly figure out how to create the first AI (and in my Nobel speech, I'd totally cite my flist as my inspiration, if I still remembered you and all), but you know? Guessing? I'm thinking no. *Pretty* sure that by this time, I'd be aware of my stratospheric IQ if it existed.
But still gah.
There's several other options, one of which focuses on the relationship between machine language and higher level languages, which sounds intriguing until I twitch to remember the reason I like this is I get to *make things*, and also, I want write a word-to-html program and archiving program that doesn't drive me nuts (seriously, so close to writing that on my Goals For This Major sheet)(also in this,
svmadelyn mentions she has a set of things that, once I finish, I'm expected to write for her due to her Ceaseless Encouragement, Support, and General Goodness of Spirit (possibly I am quoting). I like being given a set of tools, a pile of things, and told to make something out of it (see Jenn Build Giant Rabbit Condo, Jenn Disassembles DVD player, Jenn Loves Putting Together Own Furniture). The more limited the tools and things, the greater the scope for fun and innovation.Mostly I'm hoping there's at least one physical-side class somewhere. While I know in general what's in that computer or laptop, I'd like a nice sixteen weeks for someone to lovingly detail the motherboard and assorted peripherals in exacting detail. This is because my best freinds' brother just built his computer and it's like--God. I keep hearing just the specs and try not to consider seducing him in hopes he'll let me play with it in post-coital glow, because God. (And also, I know him; that would not work. Dammit.)
4.) This isn't done, but I keep thinking about it. I was chatting out an idea to
amireal and eleveninches, but it won't *solidify*. It's like that freaking "John Accidentally Becomes a Deity and Wow, How Could This Go Wrong + Bonus Body Art!", which was so cool in concept and then I got stuck forty pages in because I couldn't figure out why I couldn't pace it.Right. Solidify. I'm more attracted to individual scenes than the actual story itself.
It's like--hmm. Sometimes I get a scene and can build a story to explain it; the equivalent of looking at a painting and thinking up the story. That happens a lot.
Then sometimes I'll get like, ten scenes, all fun, all I want to write, but the story itself doesn't exist there. Partially, this is because I write in short timeframes; I cover like, a few days, two weeks, two months, maybe (with exceptions, but not so much). When I get ten scenes, they're usually progressive and require a lot between them and cover a fairly long period of time, and I'm not good with the segue (and then it was three weeks later! I hate doing that), which is why the stuff that's written from the present to the past even exists and tends to cover a longer period of time).
But part of it is a recent realization; I don't write what I like to read as often as I write fic that I'd probably hate if I read it by someone else.
Seriously. After epiphany with that, I went through my fic and pretended someone else wrote it. Yeah, Pretty When You're Mine, the SV rentboy fic? That would have earned a friendslocked rant on how much I dislike it in detail, possibly accompanied with numbers according to priority. The Principle of Exclusion? It makes me *twitch* and I'm ridiculously proud of that one, but man, that would have been a filtered and flocked rant. I think it's the part of me that's reactionary to what I've been reading or writing; I hated rentboy fics, so I wrote one. I hated Rod and disliked a lot of the Mensa AUs, so I wrote one. We're talking I'm either a masochist or I have issues even I need to consider getting dealt with. I think it's some quasi half-assed way of desensitization, except one, it doesn't work, and two, then I kind of feel like a hypocrite for disliking the other fic in the genre. And then I almost feel bad.
Will continue to loaf and read the horror spawned by some of the most creatively horrific badfic smut lines in history. I mean, they threw down. And I will never be able to eat yougart again. Ever.